


I Want Your (Hands on Me)

by daydreamsonacloudyday



Series: Vira Volkova (V) [6]
Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Smut, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29682594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamsonacloudyday/pseuds/daydreamsonacloudyday
Summary: V (Vira)& Johnny ~get busy~ backstage after her first live SAMURAI concert.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand & Female V, Johnny Silverhand & V, Johnny Silverhand/Female V, Johnny Silverhand/V
Series: Vira Volkova (V) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097468
Comments: 9
Kudos: 59





	I Want Your (Hands on Me)

**Author's Note:**

> • I…. I have no excuse for this. It’s just pure thirsting and smut, because _I_ was thirsty, okay?  
> • Also, this is like way after the end of the game, and even after my "Vira gets Johnny’s body back" fix-it fic _[(Don’t Fear) The Reaper](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29159976)_. After that, Vira and Johnny find a way to save her from the Relic still killing her, and eventually return to Night City, and _that’s_ when this happens.
> 
> More info about Vira can be found on her website: [[ → ]](https://sites.google.com/view/viravolkova-v/home)
> 
> Title song: "I Want Your (Hands on Me)" by Sinéad O'Connor [ [listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HPJ8SLagt7I) | [lyrics](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/sineadoconnor/iwantyourhandsonme.html) ]
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_Fuckin’ hell_ , V thought to herself, swallowing hard.

She’d been to rock concerts before, was familiar with the energy and thoroughly enjoyed them… but, as much as she would have liked it, none of those concerts were ever a SAMURAI concert.

V had seen bootlegs and videos of their concerts—hell, she’d relived some of them when she experienced Johnny’s memories—but nothing compared to seeing SAMURAI, _seeing_ _Johnny_ , live, in the fucking flesh.

She lost track of how long they’d been playing, too lost in watching Johnny perform. V couldn’t keep her eyes off him, not with the way the stage lights blared down on him, reflecting off the sheen of sweat he’d worked up. Some of the hair at the base of his neck was stuck down to his skin from the moisture, and she was suddenly overcome with the urge to fist her hand in his hair and lick up the column of his throat. She could imagine the salty taste of sweat on his skin, the way he’d smell, and the deep, throaty groan he’d make when she traced over his neck with her tongue and teeth, feeling his pulse beneath her lips…

V shifted where she stood in the crowd, feeling warmth rise up her own neck to her face, and she tore her gaze away from Johnny’s throat, only to get distracted by the way his organic arm flexed and moved as he played his guitar. Her thoughts were right back where they were a moment ago, and her fingers twitched, itching to touch him, to feel the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, to have his strong, warm arm holding her close.

Johnny’s metal hand, _the Hand_ , as he called it, was grasping the neck of his guitar, fingers moving wildly over the frets as he played through a guitar solo. She knew what those fingers could do, what that cold, hard metal hand was capable of in a more _intimate_ setting, and the thought of him touching her with it, of him touching her _at all_ , sent a shiver down her spine.

Deciding it was too hot in the cramped, crappy dive they were in, V took her jacket off and folded it over her arms as she stood there with them crossed over her chest. She felt relief for a brief moment… until she kept watching Johnny up on the stage. All the people packed into the bar weren’t helping, the crowd growing more and more excited the longer SAMURAI played, their cheers and screams adding to the steady vibrations rocking the room.

V’s gaze drifted to Johnny’s face as he grabbed the mic and sang into it, his voice reverberating throughout the bar. He had his aviators on, but she could tell he was staring at her because the moment she met his eyes the tiniest of smiles quirked up the corner of his lips as he sang, and she felt her breath catch in her throat, her heartbeat speeding up. That tiny smile grew into a smirk, and she rolled her eyes.

That fucker knew _exactly_ what he was doing to her, and he was enjoying every minute of it. V couldn’t deny that watching him perform was hot as fuck, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of outright admitting it. Standing up straighter, she held his gaze, her own lips curled into a smirk and a challenge in her eyes.

He focused on performing again, and she went back to enjoying the concert, enjoying _him_ , but she knew their little game wasn’t over. It wasn’t long until Johnny was flashing her another little look, and she stared right back, ignoring the way her body reacted to him. The bastard threw a few more special looks her way until Kerry announced the band would be wrapping up with one more song.

_Finally_.

Johnny pushed his aviators up onto his head, fully revealing his face, and V’s eyes narrowed as she watched him set up his hands on the guitar, preparing to strum the first notes of the song. Then, he looked at her, his eyes burning into hers, and started playing.

V recognized it immediately, having listened to it over and over on the radio before he’d even entered her life, and later, when he was in her head and he played it for her when she couldn’t sleep.

"We lost everything," he sang, and she felt the rumble of his voice through her body from the speakers. His eyes were still on hers, and V swallowed hard as he kept singing _Never Fade Away_ , the rest of the band joining in with their respective parts.

But—like with the rest of the concert—V only had eyes for Johnny. He kept singing and playing, all while still looking at her in the crowd, and she didn’t dare look away from him. She could feel heat crawling up her neck as she realized he was openly singing _to_ her, in front of the entire dive bar. The rest of the crowd picked up on it as well, looking between the two of them, staring at them, whispering amongst themselves atthe legendary rockerboy singing to some random chick in the crowd.

Ignoring them, V watched Johnny sing to her, her stomach flipping at the whole prospect of it. She found herself taking him in again—the sheen of sweat that was begging to be licked off him… his muscles that she wanted to touch… his fingers on the guitar that she wanted on _her_ — _inside_ _her_ —instead of the instrument.

She met his eyes again, and _thank fuck_ it was loud in there, because the sound that came out of her was borderline _obscene_. Johnny was looking at her the same way, eyeing her like she was his next meal, and she knew that if she left things up to him, _she would be._

_Christ._

When the song ended, everyone cheered and clapped, and Johnny was still looking at her. That fucking smirk of his was back on his face, and god help her, she wanted to wipe it right off of him—with her lips. Kerry started thanking everyone for coming to the show, but V wasn’t listening, and neither was Johnny, since the other man had to nudge him to get his attention to get the hell off the stage. V laughed at that, and Johnny shot her one last look before leaving the stage with the rest of the band.

Maneuvering through the crowd, V made her way to the bar and ordered a drink while she waited for Johnny and the rest of the band to come out from backstage. As she sipped her drink she kept her eye on the door that lead back there, and noticed a small group of women approach the bouncer standing in front of it. They were saying something to him and he shook his head, and that’s when V realized they were trying to get backstage.

V knew they didn’t have a chance at getting past the bouncer, but it _did_ give her an idea.

She finished her drink and got up, heading outside of the bar and into the alleyway around back. She found the emergency exit from the backstage area and jacked in, hacking open the door in under a minute—they really needed better security.

She jacked out and the door opened. She stepped inside, her gaze immediately landing on Johnny’s, and she grinned, tossing her jacket onto a nearby chair.

"Can you sign my tits?" she asked, pulling down her tanktop to reveal the top of her breasts.

Johnny barked a laugh, quickly closing the distance between them with a few long strides, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her into a kiss. V sighed into it, pressing herself against him as she draped her arms over and around his shoulders, her fingers finding their way into his hair.

He started getting handsy, and she pulled back, surveying the small backstage area, finding it empty of anyone but them.

"Where’s everyone else?" she asked, breath hitching when he nibbled on her neck, his hand giving her tit a squeeze under her shirt.

"Just missed 'em," he said into her skin, lips working their way up her throat.

"Shame," V breathed. "Why’re _you_ still here?"

Johnny lifted his head, that stupid smirk of his back on his lips. "Had a feelin’ you’d make your way back here."

V huffed, a wry smile spreading across her lips. "It was either here or the Porsche." She fisted her hand in his hair and tugged, tilting his head back ever so slightly. She pressed a kiss to his neck, inhaling a deep breath of _him_ , before _finally_ licking up his throat like she’d been wanting to the whole concert, tasting the saltiness from the barely dried sweat on his skin. She grazed her teeth over his adam’s apple and he groaned, the sound going straight between her legs. "We’ve already fucked in the Porsche," she whispered, lips on his skin, "but we’ve never had the chance for you to fuck me backstage like one of your little groupies."

Johnny’s metal fingers wrapped around her throat, squeezing tight enough to force her head back and make her look up at him. Swallowing hard, V met his gaze, determined to hold it despite the movements of his thumb on her neck, the cold, metal digit rubbing firm yet gentle strokes over her pulse.

"Fuck, V," he started, his voice rough. "Didn’t realize you were gonna get this worked up watchin’ me play."

"Somethin’ about you bein’ up on stage, performin’," she started, fingers coming up to trace over the cool metal of his arm. It was the latest and greatest chrome back when he’d gotten it, receptors under the metal linked right up to his nervous system, so she _knew_ he could feel each one of her deliberately placed touches. His hand around her neck twitched, his normally brown eyes so dark they were almost black. "Don’t know what it is exactly, but it’s different than when it’s just us," V finished.

Humming in agreement, he jerked her forward and captured her lips in a demanding kiss. V smiled against him and he bit her for it, his teeth digging into her bottom lip. She let out a little moan, spurring him on, and he slid his organic hand down her stomach and below the waistband of her pants. He maneuvered past her underwear and the moment his fingers found her cunt he groaned.

"So fuckin’ wet already," he muttered.

"Just for you, babe," she breathed, her voice going higher when he slipped a finger inside her, curling it just the way she liked. V pushed her hips forward, trying to rub herself against the palm of his hand, and he moved it away, letting out a soft chuckle as he tightened the grip he still had around her neck.

"Fuckin’ love it when you’re so desperate for me," he purred, and she glared at him—well, she _tried_ to.

"Johnny, stop being a fuckin’ tease."

"Me?" He huffed. "Saw the looks you were givin’ me durin’ the show. Like you wanted me to fuck you right then and there."

"I did, you asshole," V shot back, and Johnny just grinned, slipping another finger inside her, ripping a moan from her throat.

"Tell me what you wanted," he said, breath hot on her face as he pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth.

" _This_ ," she answered, indulging him. "Watching you play… wanted your hands on _me_ not your fuckin’ guitar."

She felt him smile as he pressed a kiss to her cheek and then pulled back, smirking at her again. "Oh, V," he started, his voice a low grumble, "I can play you better than any guitar I’ve ever touched."

She would have laughed if his fingers weren’t already inside her doing just that. Johnny knew _exactly_ how to touch her, and he _did_ , bringing her to the edge with just his hand and that filthy mouth of his.

V came with his name on her lips, hand tight around his metal arm, her other hand grasping his shoulder, fingers digging into his flesh. Johnny kept moving his fingers—the same way he’d expertly worked them over his guitar during the concert—extending her pleasure until it was too much.

He pulled his hand from her pants and let her throat go, and she sighed contently, leaning forward to rest her head against his chest. Johnny shuffled them around so that she was leaning back against one of the countertops jutting out from the wall, his metal hand gently stroking her thigh.

Opening her eyes, V caught sight of what he was doing with his other hand, and she swallowed hard, watching him lick and suck his fingers clean.

"Fuck," she breathed, and he smiled around his finger, pulling it out of his mouth with a _pop_.

He made a show of rolling his hand around his wrist, opening and closing his fist a couple of times. "'M a little cramped from not bein' able to move so well," he started, eyes flicking down to her pants before meeting her gaze again, "but it was totally worth it for the look on your face."

V rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. "You’re the one who stuck your hand down my pants. Couldn’t even wait to get 'em off first."

Johnny just shrugged. "Couldn’t help myself."

She shook her head and stood before him, sliding her hands up his stomach, under his tank. V greedily traced over the contours of his chest as she pushed the tank up and lifted it over his head. Tossing it to the side, she pressed her lips to his collarbone where chrome met flesh, her hand going to his pants.

"Your turn," she breathed, tracing her tongue over the seam between the metal and his skin while she palmed the bulge in his pants with one hand, the other working his belt buckle open.

Johnny’s whole body shuddered at her touch. V practically ripped off the belt when she got it undone and had his pants open a few seconds later, pushing the leather off his hips as she continued to tease the sensitive border between his skin and chrome with her lips.

She wrapped her hand around his erection and began to stroke him, slowly, pleased with the low, gruff breath he let out.

"V," he warned, looking down at her through half-lidded eyes, his hands reaching for her as she continued to touch him, varying the pace and pressure of her hand on his cock.

"Yeah?" she asked, punctuating her words with a nibble on his collarbone.

"Not gonna last long if you keep doin’ that," he grunted, hips jerking forward when she ran her fingernail along the underside of him.

Without stopping, she shot him a smirk. "I know."

A breathy laugh escaped his lips. "Fuckin’ hell," he muttered, and she huffed, her free hand snaking into his hair to pull him into a kiss. Johnny slid his hand up under her shirt, deftly flicking open her bra with a snap of his fingers, and she smiled against his lips.

V pulled back, slipped her shirt over her head and tossed her bra, and reached for him again, but his metal fingers wrapped around her wrist before she could touch him.

"Nah, I’m done with your teasin’," Johnny said, eyeing her with a dark look. Releasing her wrist, he grasped her hips and spun her around, pressing her into the countertop and meeting her gaze in the mirror above it. She could feel his cock pressing into her ass, and the look he was giving her sent a shiver down her spine.

V had a feeling she knew what was coming next, and that only had her more excited, her heart pumping wildly in her chest.

"Gonna fuck you in front of this mirror," he growled, warmth rushing through her at his words, "and you’re gonna watch, got it?"

" _Fuck,_ yes," she breathed, her prediction correct. Johnny was… well, he was _Johnny_ , and he was fucking full of himself. He got off on watching himself—on watching _them_ —as she’d learned from the many times they’d fucked in front of the mirror in their apartment bathroom, and V had discovered that she _thoroughly_ enjoyed it as well.

Grinning, Johnny slid his hands from her hips to the front of her pants, quickly undoing them. It wasn’t long until the rest of her clothes were out of the way and he was buried inside her, hips flush against her ass.

_Fuck_ , he felt so good.

Johnny started moving, gripping her hips tight, practically slamming her back onto him with every thrust. He was staring at her in the mirror, devouring her with his gaze—just like during the fucking concert—and it onlypushed her closer to the edge. He bent over her as he slammed into her, his chest to her back, and greedily squeezed her tits, rubbing his thumbs over her peaked nipples. Holding her to him, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, licking, sucking, and biting at her skin as he continued to fuck her senseless.

V cursed, sliding her hand up in into his hair, tugging on it to keep him there, and he grunted, picking up the pace. Johnny was getting louder, her name slipping from his lips with the curses and moans escaping him, and she knew he was close. She kept up with him, snapping her hips back to meet his every thrust, her own voice rising with his as she watched them in the mirror.

She loved the way they looked joined together, his body behind hers and arms wrapped around her as he held her close, hers twined around him where she could manage to reach. She couldn’t see his face, his mouth still at her throat, the mop of his dark hair visible instead, her hand disappearing into the black locks as she held him. The sneaky bastard had angled them so they weren’t directly facing the vanity so she could _just_ catch a glimpse of his cock as he slid in and out of her, the sight of it igniting a fire within her _._

V watched as Johnny toppled over the edge, his body going rigid as he came with a groan, spilling inside her. She was almost there, too, the sight and feel of him coming just pushing her closer to the brink.

" _Johnny_ ," she whined, desperate for release, and he lifted his head from her neck, looking at her in the mirror again. That familiar, satisfied, post-fuck look was on his face, and his lips quirked into a smirk when he realized she hadn’t taken her eyes off the mirror.

" _Vira_ ," he grumbled, and the deep way he said her voice—and the fucking _look_ he was giving her from behind a few strands of dark hair that were still in his face—sent a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. "Such a good little merc," Johnny said, slipping his organic hand between her legs, his fingers finding her clit.

His touch ripped a loud moan from her chest, which was followed by a string of curses as he rubbed against her. Johnny watched her in the mirror, while he brought her closer and closer to the edge, and she watched, too—watching the way her chest heaved underneath his silver arm, holding her to him, the way his muscles flexed and shifted under tattooed skin as his hand moved between her thighs, the way his dark eyes held hers, his gaze unwavering as he whispered dirty little things in her ear.

She came quickly and suddenly, gasping out his name as she clenched around his cock, still pressed inside her. Johnny held her as she rode out her high, and she slumped back against him as she came down, blinking her eyes open as her breaths steadied.

Johnny was still looking at her in the mirror, a smug smile on his face, clearly pleased with himself and his performance. V would have rolled her eyes and called him an "arrogant prick" or some shit like that, but he _did_ just fuck her brains out, so she gave him a pass—he earned it.

"Fuckin’ hell, Johnny," she sighed, shaking her head and tilting it back to rest against him, closing her eyes.

Humming, he pressed gentle kisses on her face and neck. They stayed like that together for a bit longer before separating and cleaning up, stealing kisses as they got dressed.

Johnny grabbed his guitar case with his metal hand, and wrapped his organic arm around V’s shoulders, tugging her against his side as they started walking towards the door that lead to the main room of the bar. He leaned down and gave her shoulder a squeeze, eyeing her with that stupid smirk of his.

"So, V… how was your first live Samurai concert?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

V snorted, playfully elbowing him in the gut. "I’m thinkin’ maybe Samurai should go on a reunion tour," she answered, unable to stop herself from smiling.

Johnny laughed. "I’ll tell Ker," he said, holding her closer as they stepped out into the bar. "Sure he’ll _love_ that idea."

Kerry and the rest of the band were still at the bar, where they were _supposed_ to meet before V got impatient and made her way backstage. She knew they were going to give her and Johnny shit about fucking around back there, but neither of them cared.

A year ago, V and Johnny never would have even had this chance—for the concert, for _any of it_ … but they _did_ , they were together, and that’s all that mattered to them.


End file.
